Alone but free, at last
by Breizhonat
Summary: Four years on, Harry is leaving by himself, away from all, far from everything and close to Nature. Is there any way to bring him back to civilisation?


**CHAPTER 1**

As I sat down against the coldness of the stone, my cape got caught in a sharp dent. I pulled the linen towards me tearing it tactlessly. I could not care less. My clothes were stained with dirt and dust, some parts were starting to wear out but I managed to keep warm, wrapped up in whatever was left intact.

Perhaps I should explain what got me where I am now. My home is an ordinary cave, a rather small hole at the bottom of a mountain, a mountain lost in the wilderness of Scotland. My only neighbours are the animals inhabiting the same area. They do not disturb me, they do not attack me and most of all, they do not judge me.

Indeed, I do miss real companionship sometimes, but I have made this choice and in more ways than not, I can count myself as happy. Hermit life is not so bad once you get used to it. And anyway, didn't I lead a similar life before starting school at Hogwarts? Well, I did see people, to be fair, but I could have done without all of them.

All this period of my life and the years that followed seem now so far away. I do not feel any regrets, I do not feel like starting again. I have met nice enough people during those years, but I am better off without all this troubled life for I am not in danger anymore. I do not have a psychopath running after me or people staring at my forehead all the time. I think I can now consider myself a free man.

My memory has been playing tricks to me. I do not totally remember what happened, it is why I have kept copies of the Daily Prophet recording these events. Let me fetch them for you.

There they are. I've only got four copies from different days, but they will be enough to give you an insight of what happened. Here is the very first one. I'm going to read the main parts of the articles. I will not waste time in telling you every single details.

"All the Death Eaters have escaped from Azkaban.

The Death Eaters who were caught in the Ministry of Magic last year have escaped from the Wizard's Prison. It has been reported that Azkaban is now deserted. There is no one left, neither criminals nor Dementors. The latter are thought to have joined the Dark Lord. The Minister has yet to make a speech but authorities are trying to keep as much calm as possible amongst the population. Indeed, as the news are slowly reaching wizards' household, Aurors expressed their fear of complete chaos.

It has also been reported that many wizards are already fleeing their homes. Please do not panic. Instead, make sure your homes are secure."

That was the very beginning. I was at school at the time. I remember when the news broke. We were having breakfast and it was Hermione who told us. She had been getting the paper every day and usually read it without telling us what was in it. I remember the sudden buzz in the Great Hall, everybody talking at the same time, everyone wanting to know more and more. I remember Dumbledore not being at breakfast and McGonagall asking us to calm down. I remember the look on her face, the whiteness of her skin, the tightness of her lips. I remember feeling numb, speechless. I had hoped that the capture of the Death Eaters would ease up the task to catch Voldemort. I had hoped of better days with Him locked up or dead. If he did not have his support, all those followers kissing his boots and enslaving themselves for his ideas, how could he carry on?

Naïve. That was undeniably very naïve of me to think that way. Voldemort would never have given up. He had far too greater ambitions, far too many resources. He was cruel and evil but he was still a genius. As much as it was hard to admit, one had too realise that this wizard was not to be defeated by an amateur. And certainly not by me.

Everyone's worst fear had realised: the Dementors were on his side and the Death Eaters back behind him. The fierce battle that had happened at the Ministry of Magic the previous year was bound to have envenom them. They were to come back even stronger, even more vengeful. The Ministry had failed to keep them all locked up for good and now the entire Wizarding world was about to pay.

Here is another newspaper, released two days after the other one.

"Panic strikes the Wizarding world!

Hundreds of people have fled from their homes, trying to find refuge abroad, or for some, hiding amongst Muggles. (…..)

The school of Hogwarts have seen a majority of its students brought back home by their parents. Although the school remains opened, lessons have temporally been cancelled."

I remained at Hogwarts as there was no way I had gone back to the Dursleys. I don't know why so many parents wanted their children at home, considering Hogwarts was one of the safest place in England. Hermione went back to her parents as she was concerned for their safety. Ron, Ginny and Luna Lovegood remained at the school too. Ron and Ginny's parents were too busy to assure them safety at the Burrow and as for Luna, I never knew why she stayed there. However, I think Molly and Arthur Weasley were involved in the peacekeeping plan, as were their sons, we supposed.

We quite enjoyed not having classes to start with. Within days, over three quarter of the students went home while the rest was enjoying a bit of freedom. We rarely saw the teachers and the ones we saw were mainly Trelawney or Grubby-Plank. I don't recall seeing much of the likes of Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick or even Hagrid. Our guess was that they were planning something with the Ministry. It had taken a great deal for Fudge to trust Dumbledore again, but even he had to admit that he was wrong not to believe his allegations about Voldemort's return. I suspected that Fudge still saw Dumbledore as a threat for his position but he did manage to put all of this aside for the sake of all of us.

As I was saying, we did enjoyed our freedom at the beginning but boredom started to strike us. We were allowed to go outside under teacher supervision but only for a couple of hours. The rest of the time, we were wandering about the castle or playing games in the Tower. We were starting to feel restless, not being able to make a difference, to help the others in preparing for what was about to happen. Because we knew something terrible was brewing and that it was a matter of days before the first launch of attacks occurred, maybe even a matter of hours.

Hermione wrote to us several times. We had created a code for owls might well have been intercepted. She did not have much things to say, but was more interested in what we knew, which wasn't much. She was totally cut off the Wizarding world and was kept in the dark. But so were we. All we could tell her was what we'd learn from the newspaper. And I suspect they kept a lot hidden from us then too.

Ron, Ginny, Luna and myself were practising and learning new spells. We had the feeling we would need them sooner or later. And we were right.

We did not have the Daily Prophet for several days. I don't think anybody printed anything, there was too many things going on.

In one day and one night, battle raged. The loss of lives was incredible and surreal. Voldemort and his Death Eaters swept through London and the major cities of the United Kingdom. They massacred everyone in the Ministry. I think this is where Molly Weasley, amongst many others, lost her life.

Hogwarts wasn't spared. To this day I still don't know for sure how they penetrated the grounds. I sometimes think that Dumbledore must have permitted entry to the school in order to confront Voldemort once and for all.

Which he did.

Us students, were not quite prepared for that. Well, we knew something would happen, but we had learn to live almost as normal. Ron, Ginny and me were in the Tower playing exploding snap. When we heard the noises outside, we knew instantly that it was it. They were there. What happened next is quite blur in my mind. I just remember Ron rushing out the Common Room to fetch Luna, who was in her own Common room with some fellow students. I also remember Ginny anxiously clutching onto her wand, I remember her eyes wide open in fear and the paleness of her skin.

I went to get my invisibility cloak and got back in the Room. I pulled Ginny next to me and we sat in a corner, hidden under the cloak. This wasn't a brave move but it saved our lives. A couple of Death Eaters had entered the Common Room and searched the dormitory but had left, not finding anyone. We did not dare leaving our spot for a while, in fear of them coming back.

When we finally did, we went to the boy dormitory and watch the end of the battle. It had been quick. We saw Dumbledore striking the lethal spell onto Voldemort. We saw him fall down, never to raise again while the Headmaster inflicted more incantations to make sure of this.

The aftermath was terrible. Very few of the Castle had survived. Comforting Ginny was heartbreaking. Ron had lost his life running to save Luna's. She did not make it either, nor did her fellow students. They were caught in their Common Room as Ginny and I could have been if it hadn't been for the cloak.

Snape had been tortured by Death Eaters in front of Dumbledore and the other teachers. Voldemort tried to blackmail them but they did not react. I think it was part of the understanding between the teachers that if one of them got caught, the other would not give in. Flitwick too had given his life to save us. McGonagall lost her right arm but was fairly ok. Hagrid only had bruises which seemed nothing compared to what his brother Grawp inflicted on him the year before.

I did feel immensely guilty. I had not participated in any of this. I was alive but I had been a complete coward. Our side won, but I did not deserved to be part of the victory. Others paid for me to still have a life, while I was hiding under a stupid invisibility cloak. I felt ashamed, unworthy, but it was too late for me to be repentant.

My cowardice did not go unnoticed however. Several weeks after all this, the Daily Prophet published a rather interesting article.

This is the fourth newspaper. The third recounts what happened and what I just briefly told you.

"Where was Harry Potter?

The highly praised and cherished Wonder Boy seemed to have been absent from all of this. He was highly awaited, many counted on him to finally get rid of the Dark Lord. However, no one has seen the young wizard. Where was he? What has he done? He is still alive and rather well, some say. Where was Potter when we really needed him? After so many years of popularity and recognition, the supposed skills of the boy have not been witnessed during any of those fatal hours. Did Potter fear for his own precious life? Most certainly. It was yet, down to an ageing wizard to do the dirty work. (…..)

One is force to conclude that in some cases, toddlers present more bravery and courage than any sixteen-year-old. Shame on you, Potter!"

Nice, isn't it? I know that whoever wrote this had a point, a very good one, but still. It seems as if I asked for what they call popularity. If Snape had not died that night, I would have believed he to be the author of this article. As it were, it is not and I don't even know the person who produced it.

After that article, my life did not improve. I could not walk in the streets without people staring at me, talking behind my back or pointing at me.

There was no school. Out of all Weasleys, only Ginny and Charlie survived. I went to live with them for a while but despite their kindness, I could not ignore what people were saying. Going out was a nightmare and staying at the Burrow was not much fun either. Charlie and Ginny were in mourning, and I was helpless.

So, one day, I left. In was very early in the morning, they were still in bed. I wrote a quick note to thank them for their hospitality and took my leave.

And this is where I ended up. In that cave. My home for the last three years.

When I left the Burrow, I wasn't sure where to go. I did not wish to see the Dursleys again and I knew they would not wish to see me either. I was seventeen, I could take care of myself.

As I walked during the day and flew at night, as randomly as any vagabond, all I could think of were the tremendous loss the Wizarding world had suffered, all those people I had known, some very close friends. I missed Ron. I missed his family, his parents so generous to me, his home which was once what had seemed to me like the best place on Earth and was left cold and lifeless.

I also had this article in my head, the words cruelly dancing in my mind, hurting my brain like thousands of little arrows. People's judgements were following me like a trail. I had to wear a hat, let my hair grow, prevent from shaving. Finally, I became unknown, for the first time in my life. I became everybody and nobody in particular. I was unrecognisable, even to myself. I was truly part of the anonymous crowd.

You might think I could have carry on living like this, but even my disguise did not prevent people from criticising Harry Potter. When they asked my opinion, I did not know what to say. Sure, I agreed with them, as I mentioned before, but they were taking it too far. It had by then been months since the fall of Voldemort. Why did people still had to mention me? Couldn't they talk about Dumbledore, who, if possible, had earned himself more respect than could be imagined? It just seems like people do not know how to celebrate a real hero. They do, however, know how to bring down anybody who does not match their expectations.

So I carried on walking. I went North, sinking deeper and deeper into the wilderness, away from people, away from civilisation. And I stopped here, the perfect spot. Mountains and forests all around, a loch near by. Civilised world miles and miles away.

And for the first time in months, I started to breath again. I owed nothing to nobody. I just had to rely on myself. Sure, I did go back to the nearest town several times since I've arrived. After all, I needed some spare clothes and enjoyed a proper meal in a pub. But overall, I've been self-sufficient. And to be honest, I enjoyed it.

So, this is how I got here. It is not a sad story. Just an account of a troubled period of our history, just my own version of the events.

I have got to pause there, I'm afraid for my fire is getting weak. We are in April, but the cave remains cold all year round. Outside, night is slowly falling. I start to hear the nocturnal fauna stepping out of its refuge. As for me, I won't go out again tonight. Instead, I have planned a nice quiet evening next to the fire, enjoying freshly caught fish and a bowl of wild berries.

(To be continued)


End file.
